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Desolate
The endless blue of an empty sky I look inside & wonder why
when you look at me I hardly breathe the me you see
my hollow shell
empty & raw my own private hell.
in you & yet in my own soul
not so nearly is a beauty pure a deep river wending its way flowing so sure.
dusty & dry vacant, so still
I don't know why.
in lush green grass I've lived my life not to amass
now turned from me & gone from sight
can this be right?
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